Project Elizabeth
by don'tgivemerubbish
Summary: After Alice and Matt are captured by Umbrella, DNA is taken from them in order to form the greatest bio-weapon yet: their daughter, Elizabeth. Created by Doctor Isaacs in a lab, Elizabeth distrusts the corporation and tries to form a plan of escape. But she doesn't have much time since the Hive is being re-opened soon.Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer and Author's Note: I obviously don't own Resident Evil, if I did Matt would be alive. I have limited knowledge of this but have tried to research as much as possible, so I apologise for mistakes. Just pretend I meant for them to be that way… although this is my version, so most changes will be deliberate. Buckle up kids and enjoy the ride. Also review because I'm lazy and motivation certainly helps.

Chapter 1:

I am in a globe filled with a liquid. This is not normal but it is all I have known. Technically, I have not been born yet. I was made in a lab and now I am being matured and grown in this container. I am awake but they do not know that. They are unaware that I can hear all they say and am storing the information in my brain. Although I have not been 'born', I am physically fourteen. My instinct to stay quiet and observe is proven right when I hear the man who has brought me to life.

"My triumph, my best creation…This is Project Elizabeth," I hear a male voice narrate, probably to a colleague. Despite not opening my eyes I realize this man must be a scientist. There is a lot of basic information in my brain I have yet to access. "She was created from the DNA of Project Alice and Project Matthew. Both remarkable humans, able to bond with the t-virus without becoming the undead. Granted, Matthew started to mutate before we administered the anti-virus, but tests on his clones have proven he would have retained independent thought despite physical change. Alice was even more extraordinary as she reaped all the benefits of the virus without attaining any adverse effects. I harvested eggs from Alice and sperm from Matthew in order to create her. With her superior genes, she will be the ultimate bio-weapon. But why stop at genes? So I went further and altered her DNA. Enhanced speed, strength, stamina and agility. She is incredibly intelligent. Best of all, zombies view her as infected and therefore will not attack her. All of this will be wrapped up neatly in the guise of an eighteen-year-old girl; young enough to seem harmless and naïve, yet old enough to be able to defend herself and live alone without causing suspicion. Due to the accelerated growth, she will be ready in a few days."

The voices retreat. I do not trust my creators. I am merely an asset to them and vague knowledge tells me those who create children are supposed to love and care for them. I am not hurt by this knowledge, I haven't had time to form emotional attachments, but I have a large focus on self-preservation. Therefore I will need to form a plan, but first I will play nice and learn more. I will learn more before I decide on anything.

Xxxxx

The next day I am fifteen.

"Ah my darling, you are going to be magnificent. Alice could be just as great if only she can overcome her stubbornness. Such a pity she betrayed us. We are the future, experimentation and evolution are necessary. There have been certain _issues_ , but those will be resolved in time."

The man speaks quietly to me as he works. He still thinks I am asleep and is merely expressing his thoughts out loud. But now I know my biological mother, Alice, is against this corporation. She could be a possible person to team-up with, should she keep her same beliefs.

Xxxxx

The day after I discover my biological father, Matthew, is also against the people who created me. He was an activist and the company who created me is called "The Umbrella Corporation". I am sixteen and in two days I will be released from my pod.

Xxxxx

Tomorrow is the day. I am sure that information will kept from me once I 'awake' and so I listen carefully whilst I still have this opportunity. According to a conversation between the man and another employee, my parents are being housed on floor 2 and are both heavily drugged. This is useful information should I decide to team up with them.

Xxxxx

"It's time," I hear before a button is pressed and the liquid around me begins being sucked away. I open my eyes for the first time. The man before me has blond hair and appears to be in his forties. He smiles encouragingly. After the liquid has drained and my cylinder opens, I stand up hesitantly. I lose my footing and start falling before the man catches me. He smiles again at my bewildered expression and helps me up.

"Th-Thank you," I stutter out. Suddenly I am acutely aware that I am naked in front of these people. I feel a blush rise in my cheeks. A lab assistant notices and hands me a lab coat to cover up.

The man who created me begins speaking, "Welcome my dear. I am Dr Isaacs. Your name is Elizabeth and you are my creation. But you should know this along with other basic information as tapes should have been played for you whilst you were maturing?" he waits for me to confirm. I nod silently. "Good, it appears that your mental abilities are functioning as intended. Now then, you were made from the DNA of two of our successful experiments. You should inherit their superior abilities through your genes, but I have also made adjustments of my own to enhance you," he beams with pride. I notice he fails to mention my parents' names or give me any information about them. He doesn't even refer to them as my parents, just as experiments. Interesting. "What you need to understand is that everything is about functionality. You were designed for a specific purpose, one I will explain in time. For now your hair must be fixed before you are shown to your room."

A woman in glasses steps forward and offers me her hand. I look at it, then at Dr Isaacs. He nods and I take it. The woman leads me out the lab and into a bathroom. Her name is Megan and she smiles at me kindly.

"I know this must be very confusing, to be thrown into the world so suddenly. You're supposed to have eighteen years to learn and grow before reaching your stage," she looks down at me, "all that knowledge and maturity with no experiences behind it. It's not really fair…" she mutters in an annoyed tone. "I just want you to know that I'm in charge of taking care of you. You can ask me anything you want and I'll try to answer as best I can. Please let me know if there's anything you need."

She explains she has to cut my knee-length hair. It grew at the same rate as the rest of my body and isn't practical. I need something that is easy to maintain and can be tied back, according to Dr Isaacs. Megan begins cutting whilst I examine my reflection. Blue eyes gaze back without emotion. I have dark brown hair and quite a narrow face. I do not look like an amazing creation, I look like an average teenage girl. When Megan is finished my hair is a bit past my shoulders and the tiled floor resembles a carpet. She tells me I look beautiful. She's trying hard to please but I'm not sure if it's because she likes me or she's trying to gain my trust so the corporation can keep closer tabs on me. I offer her a small smile regardless, and she seems genuinely pleased.

My room is plain and I realize the building we are in is a hospital. There is a single white bed, with a white dresser and lamp. It's about functionality, I remember Dr Isaacs said. My fingers curl around the dresser's handles and discover clothes for me inside. Functional, again. Black t-shirts, black jeans and beige underwear. In the bottom drawer I find black boots. I change into actual clothes and hide the lab coat under my pile of t-shirts because I don't know if I'll need it in the future. If they ask why I haven't given it back I'll play dumb and act confused about why it wouldn't go with other clothes. As I finish dressing, Megan re-enters my room. Precisely as I finish dressing. _Cameras_ , I realize with widened eyes. I'll have to be careful; they're watching me.

I am immediately thrown into training. I spend three days learning a bit about various fighting styles; including Muay Thai, Taekwondo, Karate, Judo and countless others. My days are a blur of sweat and bruises with a carousel of constantly changing instructors. I quickly discover I learn better with instructors who treat me roughly. My anger would rise and I become progressively more vicious. Some of the instructors leave because I break a nose or an arm in our sparring session; something Dr Isaacs seems particularly delighted about. So far I am a success in his eyes. Short breaks are allocated for meals and trips to the bathroom. Megan sits next to me during meals, grinning and chattering animatedly whilst I listen. She is the only person to approach me, everyone else avoids me with wary expressions. Despite my initial reluctance, I begin to warm up to her. It wouldn't hurt to allow myself to socialize a bit and, I try to justify myself, it would be useful to gain more general knowledge from her. But I was wrong, it would hurt a lot to socialize, as I would discover later.

On my third day of training I am with Vince again, one of the few instructors to last the previous two days without injuries. I frown as I take in the purple stains along his arms and inquire, "You still have bruises?" "Yeah of course, you pummelled me only yesterday. My fastest student by far," he grins at me. I hide my confusion with a smile. All my bruises and cuts healed within an hour.

My hand-to-hand combat training is concluded and I meet with Dr Isaacs so he can analyse my progress. The walk from the training room to his lab is strangely quiet, Megan and I usually see workers bustling about but today there is no-one. She leaves me at the door to the labs, looking a bit uneasy; another unusual occurrence.

I walk through the door and tread forward silently. Up ahead his lab appears empty. My mouth opens to call out when I feel a presence behind me. I duck as a black-clad man launches toward me and swipe his legs out from under him from my crouch. Two more figures appear behind him. I wait for them to run towards me before rolling through the gap between them. I use the time they take turning around to jump up and slam their heads together. Groaning, they fall to the floor. My muscles tense up and I wait for another assault, instead Dr Isaacs emerges with a clipboard and an expression of pride. "Well done Elizabeth! You passed the first test with flying colours, just as I expected of course."

Apparently normal people cannot pick up numerous fighting styles in the time span of three days, and eighteen-year-old girls don't unusually incapacitate three attackers single-handedly. Dr Isaacs is elated with my progress, or rather that his creation is a success. It's difficult to determine how much pride is directed towards me rather than himself.

"Dr Isaacs, may I ask a question?"

"Of course my dear, go ahead."

"There's something I don't quite understand. Yesterday Vince and I both gained bruises whilst training; mine faded along with the pain within the hour, yet Vince still had his today and seemed to still be hurt. Why is that?"

Dr Isaacs chuckles, "I forget that you don't understand quite how your body works yet. Due to your altered DNA you heal at an incredibly fast rate, just as you learn and adapt faster. Now then, you should rest since weapons training begins tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Guys! Thank you so much for the reviews! I get so excited when I find out people are enjoying my writing. I'm sorry for the long wait but I have had final exams for ages. So I promise I wasn't ignoring you, it was just difficult to fit everything in. The good news is that I'm finished now so I'll try update faster. Now for this chapter I'm just letting you know I haven't got a clue about weapons so I had to research this. Apologies if the info isn't accurate.**

Chapter 2:

Weapons training begins today. I enter a cavernous room with racks of guns, knives and various other weapons along one wall; and targets shaped like people along the other. Quinn, my instructor, informs me that the recoil of a gun is quite shocking before you get used to it and can be painful. I am told to be patient with myself because I will improve my accuracy in time with practice. But I soon discover that this advice does not apply to me. We begin with the easiest of the guns, a rifle. The recoil doesn't elicit even a flinch out of me and I hit the target on my first try. Only the arm, but still a hit. Quinn congratulates me but then mumbles something about beginner's luck. I know that's not true. It wasn't luck, my enhanced body doesn't require luck, and so I prove it to her by hitting the heart and head one after the other repeatedly in my next round of shots.

Once she recovers from her obvious shock she gives me a handgun and explains that the recoil on it goes up rather than backwards. She's obviously rattled, but doesn't want me to see it so she tries to act casual. I aim lower than I would have with the rifle and continue hitting my targets. I one-hand it with ease. Quinn's eyes are saucers. Time passes while I wait for her to collect herself. Then I am given a shotgun, the most volatile and difficult of the guns I'll be using today. The recoil causes my shoulder to throb with a dull ache, yet still I do not flinch. I do not miss either.

Quinn is only an expert at fire-arms so another instructor comes in after lunch to teach me about knives. From across the room I hear her mumbling to him as he enters. "It's disturbing. She looks at you with this dead-pan, unflinching look and doesn't speak. Supposed to be a beginner, but she comes it here like American Sniper."

Radley is dark and brooding. There's something not quite right about him. Behind a dark fringe his slitted eyes glare at me. He grunts out instructions about how to correctly hold a knife and demonstrates throwing one at the target before indicating I should do the same. After a couple of throws hitting the target he suddenly charges me. He slashes with his knife while I bob and weave. I try to deflect his stabs with my own knife, but this is different from my other fighting and I'm not quite fast enough. A trail of red appears on my arm and he stops attacking me. I stare transfixed. This sharp, stinging pain is new and different to the dull ache of bruises. It's not that bad. It's more surprising than anything else.

I look up at Radley and he's grinning, clearly satisfied with himself. My other instructors never tried to hurt me, all injuries were accidents. "That's the way you learn. I can't show you how to fight with a knife, it just has to happen. And that cut is going to remind you to react faster next time," he tells me. I'm not sure if he meant the physical cut, or the memory of it.

In the cafeteria I settle into my usual routine: Collect food and eat while listening to Megan chat for an hour. I savour the cheesy, warm lasagne making its way down my throat. "So these people get paid and are well known because they can sing or act (which is pretending). People love them. Some of them get paid purely for existing!" Today Megan is trying to explain celebrities to me, a concept I find confusing yet entertaining. "So Megan, these singers, do you like them?" I've been talking more over the past few days since it appears as though Megan never discusses anything that could be used against me. She seems happy whenever I ask questions. Megan pulls a small, rectangular device out her bag and attaches a chord that has two round ends. She tells me to put a round end in my ear while she does the same with the other. For the remainder of our break she shows me various music. I enjoy Muse.

If Radley was speaking about the actual wound, he was wrong, it heals overnight. But the memory stays and I do react faster next time. I deflect all his attacks, whilst he becomes increasingly angrier. So far I have refrained from trying to hurt him back. I don't see the point in hurting anyone unless I'm in danger. Then one day he charges me from behind whilst I'm getting a drink of water out my bag. I roll out the way just in time. Anger rises, thick and hot. That wasn't fair, we were on a break and I was completely unprepared. For the first time I consider that this man actually enjoys hurting me. So I don't hold back and deflect the silver flashes before drawing my blade along his forearm. At the sight of blood Radley freezes and stares at me. "What the hell is wrong with you, you little bitch!?" he shrieks. Once again I'm taken by surprise, this time at his hypocritical attitude. For the first time I experience loathing. "It's how you learn," I reply coldly with a disgusted curl of my lip. I walk without looking back.

I decide to tell Megan about Radley and see what she thinks. I don't have enough experience to tell if this is acceptable behaviour for an instructor or not. And I certainly don't want to go to Doctor Isaacs with my concerns at first. Something about that man tells me he isn't too fond of slip-ups.


End file.
